Pushed Too Far
by SnerkyPygmies
Summary: Marshall has finally had enough. Mary/Marshall
1. Chapter 1

**Pushed Too Far, **

**Chapter 1**

She'd been ordering him around all day, and he'd just about had it. "Back off, Mare," he said warningly as he started to walk away. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

"Like hell I don't!" she shouted, grabbing his arm to physically prevent him from leaving. "Don't you dare walk away from me, Marshall. You're—"

"I'm what?" he demanded, whirling around to face her. "Your property?"

"Don't be ridiculous—"

"What am I, Mare? You don't want me, but you don't want anyone else to have me either. Have you ever stopped to think about what I want? About how you're keeping me from being happy?"

She fell silent, stunned by his outburst. "I don't—"

"You have to make a decision, Mare," he said quietly, looking utterly defeated. "Either you take a chance with me, or you let me go. This... limbo... you're keeping me in... It's tearing me apart..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Pushed Too Far, **

**Chapter 2**

"This isn't a dance, Marshall. I'm not climbing under any pole," she said, and he gave her a pitiful smile that faded quickly. Damn. She'd broken him. All this time she'd pushed him and he'd never stopped taking it, never left as she feared he would, and she'd finally done what she'd been trying to do all along.

The worst part was, it wasn't what she wanted at all. She wanted him with her, but she didn't want him raked over the coals, half-dead, bleeding and bruised. She wanted her Marshall, the one that made insipid comments and knew too much about stuff that no one cared about except him.

"Isn't it a bit," she paused and licked her lips, her mouth dry, "a bit late for that?"  
He shook his head. "I think that's the worst part, Mary. I keep coming back for more."


	3. Chapter 3

**Pushed Too Far, **

**Chapter 3**

"Why?"

He didn't answer, just looked at her questioningly.

"Why do you keep coming back for more?" she clarified, her voice barely above a whisper. As terrified as she was of the answer, she didn't have a choice; she was going to lose him if she didn't fix this.

"You know why, Mare."

"No, I don't," she said, shaking her head in denial, still unable to get over her fears, despite what was at stake.

"Fine," he sighed, shaking himself free of her grasp. "I give up. I can't do this anymore, not if you're not even willing to try..."

And so, without so much as a backward glance, her partner did the one thing she'd always feared most.

He left her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Pushed Too Far, **

**Chapter 4**

She stared after him for a moment, unable to believe that he had actually done it. She had feared it for three years, him walking away, but she'd never thought that he would. She needed to believe that he wouldn't.

"To hell with that!" she yelled and took off after him.

She caught him outside, the rain pouring down in sheets like the earth was crying with him, her, them, and she caught him and turned him around, pinning him against his car.

"Listen to me. You don't get to leave. You can't. I know I don't deserve you, and I've put you through hell, and you want to go, but that's what you can't do," she told him. "I need you too damn much to let you go. And that scares the hell out of me. I don't want to know what it's like if you're gone. So you just... You can't leave. Tell me what I have to do to make you stay."

He looked at her and then closed his eyes like he was in pain. He probably was, damn it.

"Mary, I can't do this. I'm not going to stay because you're afraid. You can get along without me. You know that. I know that. You just don't want to because I make it easier for you."

"You're my only friend, Marshall. Don't tell me I'll be fine without you because it's not true," she insisted. "I can't let the only person who's ever gotten close to me go. You got past every defense I had, you bastard, and I love you, and that means that you can't go."

His eyes opened, and he stared at her. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

She winced. "Okay, so calling you a bastard isn't a good way to make you stay, but I—"

"Not that part," he interrupted, "the other part."

"That?" she asked, thinking over what she'd said. "Shit."


	5. Chapter 5

**Pushed Too Far, **

**Chapter 5**

She felt the familiar feeling of panic creep over her as she realized what she'd just said.

What she'd just _done_.

"Marshall--"

"Don't."

"But--"

"Just... give me a minute."

"I don't--"

"I know you don't," he sighed, absentmindedly running a hand through his now-dripping-wet hair. "Just be quiet for a minute, okay?"

She nodded mutely, knowing she owed him that much after what she put him through.

"Just give me one minute to pretend that you did mean it," he continued, "that I am more than just the guy who does your research and gets you coffee in the morning..." He paused, closing his eyes again. "Just for one minute, let me pretend that I am more than just the guy you hang out with because you don't have anyone else..."

She stared at him, stunned. Did he really think that's all he meant to her?

"Marshall--"

"It's fine," he sighed, sagging back against the car. "I'm fine... We can go back to--"

"No," she said calmly, "we can't."

"Wh- What?" he stuttered, eyes snapping open in sudden panic.

"You really do think that's all you are to me, don't you?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his.

"No, I don't... I was just venting... I don't really--"

"Yeah, you do..." she sighed, wondering how she could have lets things get this bad. "You need to listen to _me_ now, okay?" He looked at her questioningly but kept quiet. "I love you."

"But--"

"I love you," she repeated, not giving him a chance to protest.

"Mare-"

"I... Love... You..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 6**

He mouthed the words to himself, repeating them under his breath, and she watched the rain trail over his lips, wondering why the hell the rain got to touch them when she didn't, and she pulled him close to her and covered his mouth with hers. She swore he was still repeating them as he kissed her, and damn, why the hell hadn't she done this sooner? His kiss back in that barn was good, but this?

Mary whimpered a little. She didn't whimper. She thought she heard him snicker a little, and she almost hit him for it, but if she did, he might leave, and there was no way she was letting him leave when he kissed like that. Hell, no.

He paused, leaning back against the truck for air. She looked at him. "What now?"

He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Sure you do. You're the one with the stability, the lasting relationships, the monogamy shtick," she reminded him. "I had Raph, and you know that wasn't anything like what most people do."

Marshall looked out into the rain. "Mary, I really _don't_ know what to do."


	7. Chapter 7

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 7**

"What is it exactly you don't know?" she asked, cocking her head at him. "It it because of work?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "I don't--"

"What, then? Is it that you don't believe me, that you don't believe I really do love you?" she pressed on stubbornly, determined to find out what was holding her partner back.

"I just... I don't know how... How to say this..."

That's when it dawned on her that he'd never actually told her how he felt. She'd just assumed, from his reaction and from the things he'd said, that he... "Is it that you don't feel the same way about me?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady and failing miserably. She waited for an answer, but her partner remained silent. "Marshall, don't you love me?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 8**

"Mary," he began again, and he was choking on the words again. Thunder boomed overhead, and she couldn't tell if it was rain or tears obscuring her vision.

"Oh, god," she whispered. Had she waited too long? Misjudged what he'd told her? He was in love with her, wasn't he? He had sounded like it earlier. Why was he denying her now?

"You just felt what I've felt for years," he said softly. "For a minute. Now imagine that pain every minute of every day for a year. More."

"Damn it, Marshall," she cursed, touching his arm. "What the hell do you expect me to do? Take it back? I can't change what I did. I've screwed up. God knows I have, and you never left before now. You should have. Because I'll just keep hurting you."

"Is that your idea of an apology?" he asked, shaking his head. "It sucks."


	9. Chapter 9

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 9**

"I _am_ sorry. But it doesn't change the fact that I will hurt you, because it's how I am. It's _who_ I am. I can't change that."

"I don't want you to change, Mary," he sighed. "I fell in love with you, knowing exactly how you were. But this... This isn't going to work."

"What?!?" she exploded, looking at him incredulously.

"I'm sure you mean it. _Now_... But once you're had some time to cool down, and once you realize I'm still here, you're going to pull away. You're going to--"

"I'm going to what?" she asked, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Change my mind, tell you I didn't mean any of it, and bed the first man I come across? I'm not some indecisive, flip-flopping little girl, changing her mind every other minute!"

"I know, but--"

"No, you don't, obviously!" She forced herself to take a few deep breaths before she said something they couldn't recover from. "Look, Marshall... I know I have dealt badly with all of this... with _you_... But I _know_ what I want now... I want _you_." She fell silent, searching her partner's face for some sign that she was getting through to him.

"You can't do this to me, Mare," he said wearily. "Being with you, knowing you didn't feel the same, was hard enough... But if you tell me you love me, and then you take that away..."

"I won't," she promised. "Please, Marshall, give me a chance..."


	10. Chapter 10

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 10**

He took a deep breath. "Mary, I... I don't know if I have it in me to give you that chance. You know what you want, and you go for it. Do you have any idea what it's like to be denied it over and over again, knowing it was there, just out of reach? I love you more than anything, and I know that I could not come back from this if... You've stood at this point before, Mary. How many times have you told yourself better to hurt a little now than a lot later and pushed someone away?"

She felt kicked in the gut. "Too many. But Marshall—"

"Don't. You don't get to interrupt me, not now. I've had a list of more than a hundred things that I've needed to say to you for over two years. I'm not going to get through all of them, but if you want this to work, then you have to listen to me," he told her firmly.

Damn. She _liked_ when he took charge like that. It made her think of things that didn't help her focus on what he was saying. "Can we do this inside?"

He looked down and realized that she was shivering. So was he. "Yeah. We can do this inside. But on neutral ground."

"The hell does that mean?"

"That we're not going anywhere near a bedroom until we sort this out," he answered. "I know how you think. You think it would be easier to convince me by showing me, physically. That's not true. It's not how I work, and if we go that far now, we _will_ ruin this."

She nodded grimly and took his hand, afraid for a moment that he wouldn't let her. But he said nothing as she led him back inside, he let her hold onto him, and she was more grateful for that than she cared to admit. The doors closed behind them, and they stood just inside, dripping onto the floor. She looked at him.

"I suppose another kiss is out of the question?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 11**

He glared at her, clearly not amused.

"Sorry," she mumbled apologetically. "I'll behave, I promise."

"Are you sure? Nothing else you'd like to say? You might as well get it out of your system now..."

"Nope, I'm good," she assured him. "From now on, these lips will only be used for talking!"

"Funny."

"I know," she said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"As modest as ever, I see," he sighed, rolling his eyes at her in mock exasperation. "You ready to listen now, or do I have to find some... _creative_... way to keep that mouth of yours busy?"

She blinked hard, thinking she must have heard that wrong.

Or misinterpreted what he'd said.

Or... something.

One look at his expression told her she hadn't misheard or misinterpreted anything. Licking her suddenly parched lips, she desperately tried _not_ to think of the various methods her partner might use to keep her quiet. "I'm listening," she managed to croak out before falling silent.

"That's my girl," he acknowledged, smiling. "And I do believe you deserve a reward for being so good..."


	12. Chapter 12

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 12**

She looked at him for a moment, biting her lip to keep from saying any number of stupid but funny things that would take away that reward he promised. She really, really wanted it. So, when Marshall stepped forward again, she shivered in anticipation.

His breath was warm against her neck as he whispered, "You are aware that they can see us, aren't you?"

"What?" she asked, her eyes darting up to the cameras in surprise quickly followed by frustration. "Damn it."

He leaned back with another smirk. "Don't worry, you'll get your reward. I'm just not sure you want it in front of a camera."

"And if I did?" she asked, looking at him challengingly.

He stared at her for a long moment. "Do you have any idea what you're really asking for, Mary? I really don't think you do."

Her lips curved into a smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 13**

Looking around to make sure no one was looking, she grabbed her partner's arm and stalked off, bodily dragging him behind her.

"Where are we going?" he asked, sounding rather alarmed.

"To collect my reward," she replied, snickering at the panicked expression on his face.

"Mare, we can't--"

"Of course we can," she countered breezily. "Come on, Marshall... When's the last time I let a silly little thing like rules stop me from getting what I want?" she asked, taking one last look around before yanking open the stairwell door and pushing her confused partner onto the landing.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Well, I sure as hell am not going back outside. You know, kissing in the rain might look romantic in movies but, in reality, it's just... wet. And not the good kind of wet, either," she added, smirking as her partner's expression went from slightly panicked to downright terrified.

Grinning like the insane person that she was, she quite literally threw herself at him, proceeding to kiss him senseless. All too soon, though, she had to release him as the need for oxygen over-rode everything else.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed as he tried to catch his breath, staring pointedly at the camera just a few feet away.

"Don't worry about it," she replied distractedly, attention focused on her partner's neck, specifically that spot where it met his collarbone. Funny, she'd never so much as noticed that part of a guy's anatomy before...

"And exactly how would you know that?"

"Because Milovic, down in security, told me so," she said, leaving it at that.

"And he told you this because?" he asked, eying her suspiciously.

"Why do you think?" she teased as she dropped a few kisses down the side of his neck. "He wanted me to meet him, pretty much for the same thing we're doing right now..."

She felt him tense up at her answer and stifled the urge to laugh. While she generally loathed guys who went all green-eyed-monster on her, she couldn't help but find it amusing in her normally even-keeled partner. "Relax, Marshall," she mumbled against his neck. "He's married, and I don't do married guys; you know that. I may occasionally pump him for information," she added, unable to resist one last dig, "but that's it."

"How do you know they didn't have it fixed?" he asked, refusing to rise to the bait.

"I guess I don't," she admitted. "If they have, well, then I guess we're screwed, so we might as well make the most of it," she shrugged as she drew him into another kiss...


	14. Chapter 14

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 14**

She was a little dizzy by the time he finally pulled away. He closed his eyes for a long moment, breathing heavily. "Okay, that's it."

"What do you mean, that's it?"

"Don't start," he told her with a bit of irritation. "I told you...As much as we want to continue this right now. It's...It's not going to happen, not like this. Not here. And not without me saying what I have to say. I can't do this if I don't. I have to have ground rules. I know you don't need them, don't want them, but I do."

He started up the stairs, and she followed him with a curse. "Marshall, if you're going to lay down the law, would you please just get it over with? I mean... Damn it, you know what I mean."

He stopped for a moment and looked down at her. "I don't want to lay down the law, Mary. I'd be a fool to think I could control you or give you rules that you have to obey. When I said ground rules... I just need to know where we stand—where I stand."

"Beside me, Doofus," she told him.

He looked at her for a long moment before he shook his head. "That's not always true, and you know it. Do I have to start listing off the times you've gone behind my back? What about this past week, Mary? Do you have any idea what that was like for me?"

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I'm not... I don't want to lecture you. I'm trying to move forward, not backwards, and yet every time I start to... There's a lot between us, good and bad, and it doesn't all go away because you say you love me."

"Band-aid on a bullet wound?" she suggested unhappily.

"A lot like that, yeah," he told her. He took another deep breath and reached for her hand. Taking it in his, he ran his fingers over it in a gentle caress that made her stomach flip again. Marshall was talented. She never thought her partner would be capable of driving her crazy like this. He looked at her, and she felt her legs get weak. That look... It was hunger and passion and a lot of things that she wasn't sure she was ready for. "I love you—want you—so much I have been, metaphorically speaking, dying a little each day. And before you tell me that's a bunch of crap, remember how you felt earlier, and know that I felt that way, too. I'm so scared of losing everything. I need you."

She laughed uncomfortably. "You need me? No... Marshall, you're better than that, better than me. I'm drowning in all of this personal stuff, and I'm pulling you with me. You're on the life raft. Don't get back on the sinking ship."

"The idea is to get you off the ship, too," he whispered, reaching up to touch her face. "That's why I want to talk this out first. Jumping into bed would be great, but not while the ship is sinking."

She shrugged. "We're already wet."

He laughed, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight for a moment. "I don't want you to drown. That's why I've been trying to give you a life preserver for three years. Are you going to take it or not?"

"I'm taking it," she told him. "I want it. I want you, Marshall."


	15. Chapter 15

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 1****5**

If she had any doubts about her decision, they were erased when she saw the look of happiness on his face at her answer. "Don't you think my giving in _so easily_ deserves another reward?" she asked, wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

"You're relentless, aren't you?" he asked, chuckling softly.

"And this is news to you how, exactly?" she quipped. "So..." she trailed off, looking at him expectantly. "Reward?"

"You do know that every minute you delay having that big scary conversation is one more minute until you can get me into bed, right?" he said as he leaned in close, yet still just out of reach. "I'm not going to change my mind, Mare," he warned, turning serious again.

"I think you may be underestimating my powers of persuasion."

"I would never make that mistake, trust me," he assured her, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "But I need you to understand that I will _not_ just give in to you this time; we _will_ have that conversation."

She studied his expression for a moment, saw that he absolutely meant what he'd said; he wouldn't give in. "Fine," she grumbled unhappily, "You win; I give up. Let's go... talk," she added, sighing despondently.

She was just starting to pull away when he leaned in and kissed her, causing her brain to go kablooie. By the time she's regained her wits, he was already pulling away, a smug expression on his face.

"You're mental," she complained, making a face. "What the hell was that?"

"That was _my_ reward," he replied, grinning like an idiot.

She started to complain about the unfairness of his getting a reward while she couldn't have one when the door on the landing below them was thrown open, causing them to jump apart.

"Mary? Marshall? You in here?" Stan shouted, poking his head into the stairwell. "Oh, there you are," he said, spotting them. "Did you know the cameras don't work in here?" he asked, looking at them curiously. "Why the hell are you both soaking wet?"

"Uh, we--" she stuttered, looking at Marshall with a panicked expression on her face.

"Mary lost a bet, so now she has to walk up instead of taking the elevator," her partner said smoothly, looking as innocent as a new-born.

"Well, you're just going to have to wait to collect, because I'm certainly not walking up 8 flights of stairs, and I need you both in the office right now. So, come on... Into the elevator, people!" he said, gesturing for them to follow him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 16**

Mary grabbed Marshall's arm and hissed under her breath. "What now?"

"What do you think? We follow Stan, we find out what he wants, we do what he wants, and we resume this discussion later," he told her, dragging her with him as he headed into the elevator. She cursed again under her breath. This wasn't going to work. It was getting screwed up already. Damn Marshall and his needing to talk. They could have been at home by now. If they claimed not to have heard their cellphones, they could have had a nice, uninterrupted interlude in his bedroom—had to be his, no bringing him home to Jinx and Brandi—but, no, he decided they had to talk, and now Stan had found them, and they had to work.

"We've got a problem," Stan said as they joined him in the elevator. "New transfer, major crisis, just your favorite thing. Andrea Millet, twenty-nine, witnessed a mob hit on the son of a senator in Illinois. More than one agency is scrambling everything its got right now because if Andrea makes it to testify, one of the biggest mob bosses in the country will be put away for a long time. Andrea's been moved from four safe houses already. She needs to be moved out-of-state tonight."

"So we're flying to Chicago?" Marshall asked with a yawn, and Mary wondered how he could be tired at this point. She was so wound up that if they were going on a plane, they were renewing their membership in the mile high club.

"Not exactly. Andrea's got an inner ear condition. Can't fly. She also gets car sick."

Mary frowned. "What the hell are we supposed to do with her, then? Is she going to have trouble with a train, too?"

"We're hoping she doesn't," Stan answered. "Though it is a possibility. You two will be meeting the train in Kansas City. You need to leave now."

Mary groaned and ran a hand over her face. "Right."

"You have something to add, Mary?" Stan asked as he led them into the office, taking two files off of Elanor's desk and giving them each one.

"Absolutely not," she told him, smiling at him falsely before grabbing Marshall's arm again and pulling him into the elevator. He was actually _reading_ the file. What was wrong with him? "What are you doing?"

"My job. I know you're not going to read it, so someone has to," he told her. She shook her head, tempted to strangle him.

"Marshall, we are in the middle of something that really shouldn't wait."

He looked down at her with a patronizing smile. "I know I'm good, but you'd better learn how to keep your hands to yourself or this is never going to work. As amusing as the idea of never leaving the house would be, there are many issues with that scenario, not the least of which being food—"

She covered his mouth with her hand. "If you're going to talk, you start talking about your rules. Because I don't want to have to wait any longer."

"You're impatient."

"No, I'm starting to believe that you don't have any rules. You're just using this to avoid sleeping with me, and that I _really_ don't understand."

He looked at her over the top of his folder, his expression amused and I-can't-believe-you-just-said that all over his face. "Now why would I do that? I'm a guy. You know what we do. And just so there is absolutely no doubt about this, Mary Shannon, I _do_ want to sleep with you. Very much. It just so happens that before I do, I want to make sure we're not doing this because your relationship with Raph became too much of a hassle or because you don't want to see me with someone else. I need to know exactly what this is."

"What, like marriage?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 17**

He turned to face her, then burst out laughing. He was still laughing when the elevator reached the ground floor and they crossed the lobby, then walked out into the bright New Mexico sunshine.

"What the hell's so funny?" she demanded, more than a little pissed off by his reaction. Here she was, trying to have that conversation he kept insisting they needed to have, and he was _laughing?_

"You are," he replied, seemingly oblivious to her darkening mood. "Seriously, Mare, I'm not insane... I know that even just hinting at marriage would send you running. I've seen what happened with Raph..."

"What does Raph--"

"You said you'd marry him, but you didn't," he said softly, all traces of laughter suddenly gone from his voice. "He thought you loved him as much as he loved you, thought that he was going to spend the rest of his life with you..." He trailed off, fishing the car keys out of his pants pocket.

She waited for him to continue, but he said nothing as he climbed into the SUV and started the engine. Sighing, she settled into the passenger seat, trying to find the words to explain exactly what had happened with the ball-player.

"I'm sure he never expected you to just... run," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Then again, he never really knew you, never really understood you... But I know you; I understand you..." He trailed off again as he focused his attention on the road ahead, merging onto I25 and heading towards the airport. "Do you understand now why I need to set ground rules?"

"You don't trust me," she said in a subdued voice. Not that she could blame him. Her partner had watched her go through a string of so-called boyfriends over the last few years, never caring about crushed hopes or hurt feelings as she moved on to the next available guy.

"This isn't about trusting you," he sighed. "If you can tell me you want this, _really_ want this, and that you want it for the right reasons, then I'll happily let you drag me to the nearest closet and let you have your way with me."

"I understand," she replied. For the first time since he'd first mentioned his needing rules, she really did understand. And while rules & discussions about feelings ranked at about the same level as having her fingernails peeled off one by one, she would do this.

She would do it because it was Marshall.

And she would do it because he was right.

"Go ahead," she said resolutely. "What's rule number one?"

"I'm afraid that's going to have to wait a while longer," he replied as they pulled into the parking garage. "We don't have much time to go through check-in & security. Flight leaves in 30 minutes," he added as he got out of the car and got their bags from the trunk.

"You can't be serious?" she asked incredulously as she climbed out and snatched her duffel out of his hands. "We need to talk now, Marshall!"

"We'll have two hours alone on the plane; plenty of time to talk then," he countered, heading for the terminal.

"Oh yeah," she grumbled, "being crammed into coach on a crowded flight is really conducive to intimate conversations..."

"Oh, no commercial flight this time," he said as he walked up to the counter and showed his badge & identification to the ticketing agent. "The feds are footing the bill, so we get to use the jet. It's just you, me, and the crew."

She followed him, somewhat mollified by news of their flight arrangements. They could definitely talk on a private charter. Hell, if she played her cards right, she might be able to convince him to do more than just talk...

They breezed through security and made it to the plane in plenty of time, even after a quick stop to change into dry, clean clothes. They made quick work of getting settled in, leaving her feeling pretty damned good about how things were shaping up. They'd have their talk, set some ground rules, and then they could get down to business.

She'd been so wrapped up in imagining exactly what she would do to her partner once she got her hands on him that she failed to notice the way he stiffened up in his seat, or the panicked look her threw her way. It was only when he elbowed her in the ribs that she finally looked up and saw what had him so worked up. Cursing softly under her breath, she watched in mounting horror as the flight attendant sashayed up the aisle, coming to a stop in front of them.

"Why, if it isn't my very favorite U.S. Marshal," the man purred at Marshall, obviously intent on finishing what he'd started the last time they'd had the misfortune of being on a plane he serviced. "Changed your mind about that... _personal..._ tour of the plane?"

"How much of a tour could it be," Mary mumbled not-so-quietly. "We can see the whole thing from our seats."

"Oh, I assure you there are parts _you_ will never get to see," the flight attendant said, winking at her partner.

That did it... She was going to wipe that smug expression right off of his face and--

"Thanks," Marshall cut in, trying to defuse the situation before it got really ugly, "but I'm good."

"_We're_ good," she clarified as she shot the interloper a dirty look.

"Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind..."

Mary watched through narrowed eyes as the man made his way back to the front of the plane in preparation for take-off. "So help me god, Marshall, if that man so much as bats a single eyelash at you, I'm going to kick his ass!"

"I think he'd prefer any ass-handling be done by me," her partner smirked.

"You think this is funny?"

"You gotta admit, it's like the universe is trying to tell us something..."

"Well," she said through clenched teeth, "screw the universe! And screw the flight attendant--" He started to say something but she effectively silenced him with a look. "Start talking, Marshall. Rules. Number one. _Now_."


	18. Chapter 18

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 18**

"Rule One," he began, "you—"

"Ladies and gentlemen, please put on your seat belts," the voice on the intercom interrupted him, and Mary cursed again, loudly. Maybe Marshall was right. Maybe they weren't meant to have this conversation. But if they didn't have their talk, she wasn't going to get what she wanted. She wanted it a lot. She wasn't going to stop now.

"Rule One," he began again after the plane had quieted again, leveling off at their cruising altitude. "You don't have to lie to me."

She frowned at him. "What do you mean by that? I don't lie to you."

He gave her a long look, and she sighed. "You do lie to me. Maybe not as often as you lie to your mother or your sister, to Stan, Raph, Elanor, or one of the witnesses, but you do lie to me. It's interesting, the lies that you tell me. It says a lot about you. You're not ashamed of most of what you say or you do, but you do feel guilty. I'm the only one you can't face when you're guilty, have you ever noticed that?"

She had, though she really preferred not to think about it. She didn't want to think about it or what it meant.

"Mary, what I really want you to know is that you can come to me, with anything. Everything. Even if you're coming to me to say goodbye, I want you to feel like you can tell me," he said, reaching for her hand and wrapping their fingers together. She stared at it for a long moment.

"That wasn't so bad. Don't you have any interesting rules? No sex in a desert or something?" she asked. He looked at her and sighed.

"You have to treat this as something that matters, Mary." Marshall shifted in his seat and faced her. She thought he was almost going to kiss her until he remembered where they were and sat back again.

"I am. I'm trying to," she told him. "You've got so much in that head of yours. I'm scared of what you'll come up with next."

"Relax," he told her. "I'm not trying to contain you or pressure you. This isn't about control. If it was about control, you'd have kicked me to the curb a long time ago. People don't last long in your world if they try to tell you what to do. I don't want to do that. I want to make this work."

"You're so sweet it's disgusting," she told him, and he smiled again. She stuck her tongue out at him, and she was rewarded with an expression that had nothing to do with their conversation. "You owe me another reward."

"For what? Sitting through one rule? Please," he scoffed.

"No, for not jumping you when you had that look on your face," she told him.

He laughed and leaned over to her, his breath tickling her ear again. "You know that even though there's no cameras, we are being watched. I don't think we want to announce this just yet, do we?"

She was about to respond to that when he let his lips ghost over her skin. She shivered, barely sitting still. "Damn it, Marshall."

"You got your reward," he said, sitting back smugly. "Now, Rule Two."

She groaned in frustration. He was going to make this go on forever, torturing her with little touches and glances until she went out of her mind. "Is this your idea of foreplay?"

His mouth curved into a slow grin. She opened her mouth to harass him about it, but nothing came out, so she closed it again. He watched her for a moment, so satisfied that she would have smacked him if he was any other man. When she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, he spoke. "Rule Two. If you're going to run, you tell me first."

She blinked, again blindsided by his choice. "What?"

"Mary, I know you. Maybe better than anyone else. I know what you do. You get pressured, and you run. I don't want you to run from me. If you feel like I'm pushing you too much, I want you to tell me. I don't want you to leave because you feel like you have no other choice," he explained, and his eyes did that switch from lust to plea again so quickly that she found herself nodding. She could ignore that kicked puppy look a lot, but not right now.

She licked her lips. Her throat was dry. She could actually have used that stewardess at the moment. "Okay. You have a Rule Three I should know about?"

"You're not going to argue that one?"

She shook her head. "No. You deserve that much. And the weird thing is, I think if something's wrong, you might just be able to fix it."

"That is how real relationships work," he agreed, reaching over to take a strand of her hair and run it between his fingers. While it might look like he was examining it for color, she felt differently as she watched him.

"We know I'm not good at that."

"Neither am I. We're both damaged, Mary. I know you don't think I am, but if we're honest about it, I shouldn't have stuck around. I shouldn't let you do what you do to me. Our relationship isn't what most people consider healthy, but it works for us," he looked down for a moment before looking back at her. "I love you, Mary."

She felt like one of those stupid giddy school girls she'd hated so much, the ones that still annoyed her today. But there was something about the way that Marshall said he loved her; it was terrifying and thrilling and so damn sexy that she didn't care as long as he kept saying it.

"You know it's going to be a while before I can say it right back, you know," she frowned and shifted in her seat. "It's not that I don't, but that reflex just isn't there."

"I don't want you to be a parrot," he said. "You don't have to repeat it because you think it's what I want to hear. That's part of Rule One."

She smiled a little. "You're a freak. I can actually see the capital letters each time you say 'Rule One' or 'Rule Two.'"

He laughed again, and Mary saw the flight attendant looking their way. She stuck her tongue out at him and moved closer to Marshall, snuggling into his shoulder. Damn, that felt good. He should be all bones and angles and uncomfortable, but she'd never felt like this when she was with Raph.

Marshall looked at her, but she pointed to the stewardess, and he nodded quickly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. If anyone asked, she was sure he'd spin a tale of his discomfort at being harassed by the flight attendant and begging Mary to pretend to be his girlfriend just to get the guy to back off.

She almost sat up when she replayed that thought in her head. "You're not going to get all sappy and call me your girlfriend, are you?"

He shook his head. "Girlfriend? No. Partner, yes. Lover, yes. Anything else will come in time."

"You're calling me your lover when we haven't had sex yet?"

"Being lovers is about more than sex," he reminded her. "You love me. I love you. That makes us lovers."

"And everybody loves a lover," she muttered under her breath.

"Did you just make an obscure reference?" he teased. "You've been hanging around with me for too long, Marshal Shannon."

She smacked him playfully. "Yeah. Why is that, anyway?"

"Because you love me."

"Stop it. Just because I haven't said it every five minutes doesn't mean that you need to go doing it for me."

He shrugged. "I'm just answering your question. Would you like to know what Rule Three is?"

She looked at him and shook her head. "Since we have to finish this talk before we move on, according to you because I'm fine with moving on without the talk—"

"Rule Three: You allow yourself to love me, and you let me love you."


	19. Chapter 19

**Pushed Too Far,**

******Chapter 19**

"What does that mean, exactly?" she asked, eying him wearily.

"It means you accept the fact that you are worth loving, for one thing."

"Marshall--"

"I'm serious, Mare. You go around, acting like a bitch, and--"

"Now, wait a minute!"

"You know I love you," he continued, ignoring her outburst, "but you're just not a very nice person most of the time. Fiercely loyal, yes. Determined, definitely. Nice, not so much..."

She held her tongue, knowing he had a point. Taking a deep breath, she slowly counted to ten in an effort to calm down. Just as she was about to reach ten, the damned flight attendant swooped in, like a shark smelling blood in the water.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" he asked mellifluously, smiling at her partner as he leaned in close.

"Oh my god," she exploded, "back off already! He's mine, okay?" She paused, giving him a look that had been known to reduce grown men to quivering puddles of fear, but he didn't budge. "I do not share," she informed him through clenched teeth, "so get your grubby paws off him, or I'm going to shove all four inches of my--"

"We don't need anything," Marshall jumped in, clamping a hand over his partner's mouth to keep her quiet. "She's had a rough day. You know how they are," he said, giving the man a meaningful look.

"Oh honey, I know exactly what you mean," the other man chuckled. "Just let me know if you need anything," he reiterated as he made his back to the front of the plane.

Sighing in relief that a major blow-up had been avoided, at least for now, he turned his attention back to his now-seething partner. "Sorry about that, but I'd really like to avoid being arrested for assault when we land in Kansas City," he explained, taking his hand away. Wincing, he sat back, bracing himself for her reaction.

"Point taken," she said in a controlled voice, causing him to look at her in surprise. "I concede that I'm not a nice person. Can we move on, now?"

"Mare--"

"I'm fine, Marshall," she insisted. "Really."

He looked at her, a dubious expression on his face.

"I act bitchy to keep people at arm's length," she recited dutifully. "They can't hurt me if I don't let them in. They can't hurt me if I hurt them first..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"It's okay. You're right," she acknowledged, "I need to work on that, or else we won't stand a chance." She shifted in her seat, turning to face him, a solemn expression on her face. "I love you, Marshall. I may not always be able to tell you, or to show you for that matter, but I do love you. You know that, right?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Okay, then... I have a rule for you too."

"You do?" he asked, eyebrow arched in amusement.

"Yep."

"Why do I feel like this is going to be sex-related?"

"I'm serious, Marshall."

"Sorry," he apologized, looking suitably chastised. "You listened to my rules, the least I can do is listen to yours."

"Rule number one – only rule, really – is that you have to be honest with me."

"Um, Mare, I hate to break it to you, but I am honest with you."

"No, you're not. Not always... I'm not as oblivious as everyone thinks, you know."

He didn't say anything, just cocked his head at her in confusion.

"I know you sometimes lie to me to make my life easier... to protect my feelings, or... because you're afraid I'll run away... and I've been letting you do it for years... because it suited me... because I'm selfish... but I can't let you do that anymore, Marshall..." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "You said I couldn't lie to you; well, you can't lie to me either. If I'm being a bitch to you, you need to call me on it. If I'm hurting you--"

"I promise," he agreed, voice not quite steady. "No more lies, well-intentioned or otherwise."

"Thank you," she said, sighing in relief that they'd finally managed to have the dreaded conversation and had both survived to tell about it. Time for them to move on... "So... Now that we've determined I'm worth loving, how about me actually _getting_ some loving?" she asked playfully, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him to her.

"You can't be serious... Where--"

"Bathroom. No pesky flight attendant in the bathroom."

"Also no Marshall in the bathroom, thank you very much. I can barely fit in there alone, let alone with you."

"So it'll be a little tight... Tight can be fun..."

He looked at her like she was insane. Which she probably was but, then again, that shouldn't exactly be news to her partner...

"Come on, Marshall... I promise you'll have a good time..."

"I have no doubts whatsoever about that your ability to blow my mind, but it's not gonna happen. Not now, and not on this plane."

"Why not?" she whined in frustration.

"Well, for one thing, we're about to land," he informed her, "so keep your panties on. We'll be on the ground soon." He trailed off, looking at her curiously. "You _are_ wearing panties, right?"

She burst out laughing, causing the flight attendant to look up from his magazine. "You're nuts, you know that?" she said, settling back in her seat and making sure her seat belt was still secure. "I guess if anyone's worth waiting for, it's you," she added softly, lacing her fingers through his.

The landing was uneventful, and they were in the deserted airport terminal less than 15 minutes later. She quickly checked her email while Marshall was in the restroom, making sure no emergencies had cropped up while they were in the air. She was typing a reply to her sister when her partner came up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist.

"Anything we need to take care of?" he asked, peering at her Blackberry.

"Nope," she replied, turning to face him. "We're clear."

"We have a little over 90 minutes before the meeting," he informed her, "and the train station is only about 15 minutes away."

"Okay," she said, putting her phone away. "Wanna grab a bite to eat?"

"I had something else in mind, actually. Follow me," he told her, taking a hold of her hand and leading her into the men's room.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a low voice, wondering if they were alone.

"Don't worry, I checked. There's no one in here," he assured her, pulling her into one of the stalls and closing the door behind them. "It's just the two of us. Not a single flight attendant in sight," he added as he bent down to kiss her.

"You're insane," she laughed, tugging at his shirt. "So no-go on the airplane bathroom, but the airport restroom's fine?"

"I have room to maneuver here," he explained as he helped her wiggle out of her pants, quickly shedding his own soon thereafter.

"Whatever makes you comfortable," she agreed distractedly as she struggled to unbutton his shirt, resisting the urge to just rip it open. Her partner, meanwhile, didn't seem to have any problems with her own shirt, quickly stripping her down to her bra. Giving up on the shirt buttons, she turned her attention to his neck, licking & nipping her way up to his mouth.

"Jesus, Mare," he moaned when she hit a particularly sensitive spot. "I'm not sure--"

She shushed him with a kiss, impatiently tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs. She'd waited long enough; she wasn't letting him back out now. His ass was hers!

She'd just managed to get him exactly where she wanted him when they heard voices growing increasingly louder, followed by the squeak of a door swinging open two stalls over. They had company. Aw, crap... "What now?" she hissed, cursing whatever cruel gods were responsible for this latest twist.

"Now we have to be _really_ quiet," he replied in a low voice, backing her up against the door.

"Sounds good to me," she whispered against his mouth as she reached for him...


	20. Chapter 20

**Pushed Too Far,**

**Chapter 20**

You sure there's no one in here, Jim?" one of the voices asked, and Mary stopped as she realized it was a woman's voice. She looked up at Marshall. Someone else had the same idea they did. And that, she thought, was too damn much.

"Sure I'm sure," the man said, and the stall next to them shook as the lovers giggled and moaned against the wall.

Marshall leaned his head against Mary's and she could hear him sigh. She closed her eyes, screaming curses in her head. The other couple was shaking the stall, getting louder with every bump, and she winced. Maybe if they waited them out... Damn, why did that kill the mood? It was what they were going to do, anyway. So what if another couple was already at it?

"I can't do this," Marshall whispered. "I know it breaks the rules of anywhere as long as it is with you, but I just... That's weird, even for us."

She nodded and grabbed her clothes again, yanking her pants back up viciously and buttoning her shirt with frustration. She watched him pick up his pants and then walked out of the stall, straightening her clothes as she studied herself in the mirror. He joined her after a minute. "You look beautiful."

She snorted as the woman began to scream Jim's name and a few other obscenities, and Mary balled her fists as she stalked out of the bathroom. Marshall caught up to her by the doors. "Hey, look at it this way... We can make sure we do it right."

"At the rate we're going, we're not going to get to do it at all," Mary snapped. She went over to the man waiting who had "marshal service" written all over him. "I'm Sheppard. That's Miller. We're here to catch a train."

The other marshal nodded. "Car's waiting. We can get you food while you wait for the train or—"

"Actually," Marshall began, "my mother's in the hospital, and I need to get a card and arrange for some flowers. I didn't have a chance before I left, so if I could have a car to run a few errands, I'd appreciate it."

Mary looked at him, impressed by the story he'd come up with. "I'm going with him. He needs a woman's opinion. So, about that car?"

"We can do that," the marshal agreed. "Get in."

Marshall took a seat in the back, and Mary followed him. She leaned close to him. "Nice story. That was rather touching."

He closed his eyes. "Mary... That wasn't a story."

"What?" she shook her head. "Marshall, why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Mary, before tonight, before we had this all out, we weren't talking. We yelled any time we were in the same room, and you—"

"Okay, okay," she whispered, not wanting to go into the way she'd behaved over the last week. The last year, really. "I get it. Still... I wish I'd known."

"For what? To give me false sympathy? That's not what you do," Marshall told her. He ran a finger against the glass. "She was in a car accident. Someone ran a red light, and she got hit. She had to have surgery on her hip."

"Damn it, Marshall. I'm sorry I was such a bitch," Mary said. "Let me pay for the flowers or something."

"You don't have to feel guilty, Mary. This wasn't your fault, and you couldn't have known," Marshall said. "I didn't tell you."

"You should be able to come to me with that stuff. That's the way it works, doesn't it?"

"You know what I really want you to do?" he asked quietly. She looked at him. "Help me forget for a while. Can you do that?"

She nodded. "Oh, yeah. I can make you forget everything."

He smiled. "That's my girl."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**:

They pulled up in front of a generic-looking building, which she could only assume was the local U.S. Marshals office. The other inspector – whose last name was Ramirez, of all things – turned around to face them, handing the keys over to Marshall.

"You can use this car," he said. "I've got a few things to handle in the office, so I'll catch a lift with my partner and meet you at the train station in an hour."

"That's great," Marshall answered, accepting the keys. "Do you happen to have a local map so we can find our way around?"

"Car's outfitted with a GPS," the other marshal replied, "but there's also a city map in the glove compartment if you'd rather go old-school."

"Thanks," Mary said as she snatched the keys from her partner's fingers. "You don't mind if I drive, do you Marshall?" she asked, smiling innocently.

"Would it really make a difference if I did?"

"Not really," she smirked. "Now stop whining and get your skinny butt into the front seat!" she ordered as she got out of the car and made her way over to the driver's side.

"She always boss you around like that?" Ramirez asked Marshall, an odd expression on his face.

"Pretty much," he sighed. "I've learned it's just easier to just go along."

"Okay... Well, call me if you need anything," he said, handing him his business card.

"Will do. Now, I suggest you let my partner take over before she yanks you out of the car, leaving you sprawled on the wet pavement. Patience is _not_ one of her virtues," he smirked.

They were on their way five minutes later, with Mary driving & Marshall safely ensconced in the passenger seat.

"Can you do your magic on the GPS and find the nearest flower shop," she asked her partner as she negotiated traffic. "The sooner we find something nice for your mom, the sooner we can move on to... other things..."

"Turn right on West 63rd," he told her after querying the unit's POI database. "The shop should be a few blocks up the street."

"What's the name?" she asked as she followed his directions, peering at the many shops lining the street.

"The Fiddly Fig," he replied distractedly, playing with the navigation unit.

"The Fiddly Fig?" she repeated, snickering.

"You asked for the nearest shop," he countered defensively. "That's the closest shop."

"Sorry," she mumbled as she remembered why they needed a flower shop in the first place. "Here we are," she said a few minutes later as she pulled over and parked the car. "You go in and find something for your mom. I'll be there in a minute; I just need to take care of something first."

She watched as he made a run for the store, trying to avoid getting soaked by the now near-torrential downpour. Sighing, she quickly got the information she needed from her Blackberry, took a quick look at the city map, then joined her partner in the shop.

"I'm almost done," he said, pulling his credit card out of his wallet and handing it over to the clerk.

"Do you mind if I get her something too?" she asked as she stood next to him, peering at his choice of flowers. "I know she doesn't really know me, and I don't really know her either, but she's your mom, and you love her... That makes her important to me, too."

"Who are you?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her, "and what have you done with my partner?"

"I'm serious, Marshall. If we're going to... be together... then your family is going to be my family..." She paused, frowning. "I guess that means my family is going to be your family, too, for which I can't apologize enough..."

"Well, she really loves acadia neovernicosa... amsonia palmeri... amorpha fruticosa... anisacanthus puberulus..."

"English, Marshall," she reminded him.

"Those are all desert plants, dear," explained the helpful clerk. "We have some lovely arrangements that should fit the bill."

She quickly made her selection, settling for an arrangement that would fit Marshall to a T, and hoping it would work for his mother as well. "She'll love it," he whispered, lips grazing her ear.

They finalized their purchases, thanking the ever-helpful clerk, and were back in the car within a few minutes.

"Now what?" Marshall asked as he put on his seatbelt.

"Now we find a quiet spot, and I make you forget," she replied as she pulled the car into traffic again and made her way to the location she'd picked earlier. She pulled into Loose Park – she hadn't been able to resist the name – and killed the engine, turning to face her partner.

"Um, Mare... There are people around, and I see at least one security camera... Granted, it's pouring rain, and the windows are kind of fogged up, but still... I don't think that this is the best place to--"

"It's the best place for the distraction I've chosen," she said, cutting him off. "I thought about this, Marshall. I know you... You may say _anywhere, as long as it's with you_, but you really want our first time to be just the two of us, alone, without any possible interruptions. That's what I want too." He started to protest, but she silenced him with wave of her hand. "I'm serious... Besides, when we do this, we're going to need walls – thick ones – because I am going to make you _scream. _Over, and over, and _over_ again," she informed him matter-of-factly, amused by the quick flash of fear on his face. She'd bet anything worrying about his mother was the last thing on his mind right about now...

"O-Okay," he stuttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "So," he asked, clearing his throat, "what's your plan, then?"

"I'm going to let you talk."

"Uh?"

"Just talk to me," she explained. "About anything you want: Leaf cutter ants, poison dart frogs, tagmemics... _Anything_."

"Where on earth did that come from?" he asked, looking at her curiously.

"What?" she asked defensively. "I can't know obscure things too?"

"It's not that you can't; it's just that you've never shown any interest before."

"Okay, so I started reading _Interesting Thing of the Day _a few weeks ago... No big deal," she shrugged.

"Sure, I can see that," he said, a knowing expression on his face. "After all, your days aren't hectic at all, and you have a lot of free time on your hands," he smirked. "Admit it... You did it because of me!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Oh, get over yourself," she laughed, punching him in the arm. "Come on... Talk my ears off... Tell me about the origins of the paperclip, the Coriolis effect, or the advantages of esperanto as a global trade language... Doesn't matter... Just... talk."

"Why?"

"Because it makes you happy," she said, shrugging slightly. "For some reason, you seem to derive an inordinate amount of pleasure from reciting obscure facts no one else has ever heard of, especially when I'm the one on the receiving end of the lecture. And while I might bitch & moan about it, and threaten to cause you serious bodily harm you if you don't stop, I've come to sort of enjoy it," she admitted reluctantly. "And, right now, I just want you to be happy. Since I can't give you a big happy at the moment, I figured a little happy would have to do," she added, sticking her tongue out at him.

"I love you," he said seriously, leaning in for a quick kiss.

"That's hardly an obscure fact," she countered, pushing him away. "Now talk!"

"Yes, ma'am," he obediently agreed as he settled back in his seat. For the next 20 minutes, he gave her an extended lecture on the controversy surrounding the Dvorak keyboard, quoting various studies either validating or invalidating the hypothesis that the new layout was more efficient than the current QWERTY standard used in North America. While she may not have understood half of what he'd said, she certainly hadn't missed the look of absolute bliss on his face as he spouted increasingly obscure facts.

"You're a weird one, Marshall Mann, you know that?" she affectionately said when he was done. "I think that made you happier than anything I could have done to you... Who needs a blowjob when you've got Google, I guess," she scoffed, shaking her head.

"I don't know," he said, frowning as he pondered her words. "Maybe we should try a blow job next time, and see how that compares," he added. "You know, just so you'll know for sure..."

She took one look at him, looking quite pleased with himself, and burst out laughing. "Come on, big boy," she said when she got herself under control again, "we gotta get to the train station and meet our witness."

They made it to the train station with 5 minutes to spare, quickly finding Ramirez and his partner standing by the ticketing office.

"I was about to call you," Ramirez said as he caught sight of them. "There's been a screw-up. The train had some sort of mechanical issue, and the witness won't be here until tomorrow morning."

"Why weren't we told about this?" Marshall demanded.

"We just found out ourselves. There was obviously a breakdown in communication, which we'll be investigating, but the important thing is the witness is fine. She's safe & snug in a hotel, along with a security detail."

"We'll put you up in a hotel for the night," the other marshal informed them.

"Well, it better have thick walls," Mary grumbled, "because I promised my partner the greatest sex of his life, and I'm not going to be quiet about it," she continued, thoroughly enjoying the stunned expressions on her colleagues' faces.

After shooting a quick look at her partner, who was slowly turning beet red as he stood by her side, she turned her attention back to the two Kansas City marshals. "You'd think that, after almost four years together on the job, he'd be used to my sense of humor," she said, rolling her eyes as she tilted her head in Marshall's direction. "Seriously, though... The last motel we stayed in was so bad I could hear the hooker next door tear open condom wrapper after condom wrapper... Guess the sex industry is immune to the current economic downturn, uh?"

"Um, well, I think we can find some place decent for you to stay in," Ramirez said, trying very hard not to laugh. "Just let us make a few phone calls," he said, motioning to his partner to follow him. "We'll meet you back at the car."

"What the hell was that?" Marshall hissed at her once the other marshals were safely out of earshot. "Are you trying to get us into trouble?"

"Settle down, nervous Nelly... They're not going to make anything of it. After all, if I were sleeping with you, I wouldn't be going around telling them about it, would I? That would be insane..."

"Well, you _are_ insane," he countered, only half-joking. He watched warily as Ramirez put away his phone and made his way back towards them.

"We booked you a couple of rooms at the local Hampton Inn," he told them, handing Mary a piece of paper with directions & a confirmation number. "Not exactly five-star lodgings, but it's clean & quiet. We've housed witnesses there before, and I'm pretty sure no one is going to hear you, no matter how loud you get," he added, winking conspiratorially at her.

"Thanks," she said, laughing as she tossed the car keys to her partner. "We'll see you in the morning, then," she confirmed, settling into the passenger seat.

Her partner sat down in the driver's seat a few seconds later, having thanked the marshals for their help, then turned to glare at her. "What the hell's wrong with you?" he asked. "Do you have some kind of death wish?"

"Relax, Marshall... It was just a joke... They don't suspect anything..."

"Can you at least try to be a bit more discrete?" he asked as he got the car in gear and pulled away from the parking lot.

"Trying to hide this is only going to trip us up," she told him.

"What do you suggest? That we tell the world we're sleeping together, despite USMS rules, and to hell with the consequences?"

"No, that's not what I'm suggesting," she sighed. "I'm just saying that the best way to hide something is to leave it out in plain sight..."

,


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**:

"You sure the walls are thick enough?" Mary asked as she followed him into his room. She had thrown her bag into the room that was supposed to be hers, pretending to be disgusted with it and checking to see if his was better. The thoughtful marshals had gotten them adjoining rooms, and she would use that in a second. "Maybe we should test them out first?"

He looked at her, shaking his head. "Mary—"

"What, you don't think I can make you scream? Because I promise you, I can make you scream," she assured him, swaggering towards him.

He smiled at her indulgently. "I know you can. If you want to test the walls, go back to your room and scream. And then come back in here. Through that door there."

"What makes your room so much better than mine?" she demanded.

"It's got me in it," he told her with a grin and shoved her out of the room, closing the door behind her. She turned back to him, glaring at the door. She shook her head, remembering that it was a joke, and opened the door to her own room. She jumped up and down a few times, testing the floor, and then she screamed.

There was no pounding from the other room, but the adjoining door swung open. "It's a good thing my voice operates at a lower octave. I heard you, but not as bad as if we were in one of those cheap motels. Then again, it's all part of the atmosphere there. You do get what you pay for."

"Yeah," she muttered, grabbing a hold of his jacket. "And I want what I paid for."

She kissed him, but he pulled back. "You think you paid for me? That I can be bought?"

"Not like that, Doofus. I love you, and I've been frustrated all day because I couldn't have you. I think I've paid my dues," she insisted, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. "Now, take me to bed, Marshall."


	23. Chapter 23

**Pushed Too Far,  
Chapter 23:**

**New Rating: **M for sexual situations. If that's not your cup of tea, then please skip straight to the next chapter; you won't miss anything, plot-wise.**  
**

**Author's Notes:  
**We've bumped up the rating to M, given the adult content in this new chapter. Yes, that means they're not getting interrupted this time. Woo hoo!  
Also, as neither one of us seems to be able to write anything remotely smutty, we brought in a pinch smut-writer for this chapter. So thanks, pixie! :)

*** * * * *  
**

Marshall didn't argue, helping Mary to remove his jacket fully and throwing it to the ground. He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately, sliding his hands down her back to her ass.

Mary groaned happily as he groped her, pulling her even closer against him. She didn't miss the returned bulge in his pants and smiled smugly at how easily she aroused him.

She was going to signal her disapproval as he started to pull back and his hands moved from her ass up to her back again, but she withheld it as his hands quickly made their way to the first button on her top, swiftly restarting the undressing they had begun in the airport restroom.

They stumbled towards the bed, leaving a trail of clothes as they undressed each other. Once they reached the bed, they were down to their underwear. Marshall stopped them, holding her back just enough so that he could properly rake his gaze over her. Mary shivered at the hungry look in his eyes. She was glad she had chosen to wear something a little more upscale in her bra and panties today than the standard cotton that she wore for work.

"You gonna stand there all night or am I gonna have to throw you down on that bed and have my wicked way with you?" Mary questioned cheekily.

She smirked at the raised eyebrow he gave her, but the smugness changed to surprise as he quickly grabbed her and tossed her on the bed. He was soon straddling her and he leaned in, kissing her deeply but briefly before moving back to hover over her.

"I believe I'm the one that's to do the taking here," he answered, a playful growl to his voice.

Mary heart raced with anticipation, delicious warmth pooling in her groin at his tone.

He leaned in again, this time bypassing her mouth and placing a kiss on her neck, just below the jaw. She instinctively leaned her head back as he made his way down her neck. He slid his right hand under her, groping toward the clasp on her bra and managing to get it undone in seconds.

"Impressive," she muttered, helping him slip her bra off.

Marshall chuckled as he threw the bra aside, then placed a kiss just between her breasts. "You ain't seen nothing yet," he murmured into her chest.

Mary gasped in pleasure as he moved to her left breast, the tip of his tongue teasing her nipple before he enclosed it between his lips, gently sucking at it. She placed her hands in his soft, brown hair, stroking it in encouragement to continue with what he was doing. He shifted to her right breast, teasing and sucking again.

While his lips worked their magic, his hands were not idle. He slid them to her waist, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of her underwear and slowly slipping them down. She arched her hips up to help him, groaning in disappointment as his lips left her nipple.

She let her hands fall back to her side as Marshall moved the underwear down her legs. His fingers grazed her skin, making it tingle pleasantly as he made his way down. Finally he had them off, but he didn't seem to be doing anything more, which puzzled Mary.

She sat up, leaning on her forearms to look at him. Her breath caught when she saw him kneeling in front of her. His gaze was even more desirous than he had been earlier, which she hadn't thought possible.

Mary couldn't help but grin, crooking a finger at him as if to tell him to come closer. Marshall did as she indicated, standing and then straddling her once again. She sat up a bit more, kissing him lightly on the lips, then pulling back.

"You're overdressed," she told him, her eyes glancing down at the boxer briefs he still wore before returning her gaze to his eyes.

"What're you going to do about it?" he asked, smirking ever so slightly.

She returned the smirk, licking her lips as she contemplated whether she should try to flip him on his back and take them off him, or just pull them down from where he currently sat.

Mary chose the easier route and pulled them down, although she managed to cause him to fall on top of her as they awkwardly attempted to get them past his knees. She found herself suddenly laughing at the sight of him lying on top of her, his boxer briefs stuck at his knees.

"You know, this is not exactly encouraging," he muttered into her shoulder.

She stopped laughing, rubbing his back in a conciliatory manner. She kissed his temple, and then said, "Sorry, but you have to admit, it is kinda funny."

Marshall shifted, looking her in the eye. "Why do I get the feeling someone is trying to tell us something?"

Mary frowned at his words. "What are you talking about?"

"Every time we try to get intimate on any level these past couple of days, something happens to hit the big pause button."

She frowned deeper, feeling frustrated. "Are you telling me you don't want to do this?"

He sighed, sounding frustrated himself. "No…I mean, YES, I do want to do this, but it just feels like fate…"

She cut him off. "Fate, schmate. You want me, I want you. I love you, and I'm pretty sure you love me." She paused, trying to calm herself so that she could get the words out right. "We both want this to happen; it's right, and a couple of bumps along the way should not stop us from having what we want, right?"

Marshall finally smiled again, a real honest to goodness happy smile that eased the nagging worry Mary was starting to have that he was chickening out of not only the sex but also their attempt at a relationship. Which, incidentally, part of her found funny considering she was normally the one who did the chickening out.

He rolled off her, and then slipped the boxer briefs the rest of the way down his muscular legs. He tossed them on the floor, and then moved to straddle her again, but she surprised him by pushing him down and straddling him instead. His swimmer's body felt good under her and she felt herself getting all the more aroused as she ran her hands over his well-built chest.

"Always gotta be on top, dontcha?" he mocked.

Mary could feel his erection pressing up to her, and she teased him by gently grinding their pelvises together, causing his hips to buck at the contact. "If you'd rather I stop…" she trailed off breathily. She then made it seem as if she was going to move off him.

He quickly grasped her hips, holding her in place. "Don't. Even. Joke," he told her, his forceful tone sending a rush of adrenaline through her and straight to her groin.

They kept eye contact for a moment, their breathing getting heavier but neither was moving. Mary had read all that crap about "electricity being in the air" between two people, but she'd never actually experienced it until this moment. And it felt damn good.

She decided once again to make the first move, leaning in to kiss him deeply. At first both their lips were closed, but soon enough they were both moaning in pleasure as their naked bodies rubbed together. Marshall surprised her by slipping his tongue into her mouth, teasing her tongue and sending tingles through her body. _Damn, he's good_, she thought. _Why didn't we do this sooner?_

Any further coherent thought was banished from her mind as he rolled them, placing him on top again, but this time he sat between her legs. His hands groped down her body as they continued to kiss, teasing her, making her moan as he found soft spots along the way.

Her hands were equally busy, she not wanting him to do all the work. She traced the planes of his gorgeous chest, tweaking at his nipples, which gained her a shocked gasp out of him and made her grin widely. Marshall retaliated by gently nipping her bottom lip before returning his tongue to her mouth.

Mary groaned as his right hand grasped her hip, while the left made its way to her groin. She felt his lovely, long fingers ease themselves lower, tormenting her by barely skimming the area, not really touching. She went to grip his hand to force it closer, but he quickly moved it away.

_Bastard_, she muttered internally.

His hand now rested at her other hip and he hovered his body over her, his hips brushing her inner thighs as he slowly thrust his erection against her. She immediately reacted, her hips arching toward him, desperate for him to enter her. She was so. damn. close.

After what felt like an eternity, Marshall stopped rocking against her and finally slid into her. Slowly.

Mary was internally swearing up a storm at how slowly he was going; it was torture, but such a beautiful torture.

He stopped pushing forward and they pulled apart, needing some air after all the kissing. He nuzzled her neck as he carefully pulled back his hips, then pushed them forward again.

She gasped as he continued his slow rhythm, grasping at his back, urging him on with quiet noises of encouragement.

It wasn't long though before he started to pick up speed, the casual grind of his hips becoming more insistent and pounding, and she responded in kind. The need for release built quickly, their hands grasping and teasing while they kissed and thrusted their bodies together. Her quiet noises became much more vocal and were soon joined by his own, only adding to the desire for climax.

And then it came.

Mary hadn't been sure who screamed loudest or who came first, but, to be honest, she **really** didn't care. She felt euphoric as their bodies clung together, both shuddering out their release until finally they were spent.

They lay entwined together afterwards, side-by-side breathing heavily. She watched him as he laid there, his eyes still closed. She hoped to hell he hadn't gone and fallen asleep. If he had, there'd be some serious ass kicking for him.

Luckily for him, he opened his eyes slowly, smiling lazily at her and sending a tingle of pleasure through her.

"Hi," he said quietly, sounding **very** happy.

Mary couldn't help but smile back. "Hi," she replied equally as quietly and happily.

"That was…" he trailed off.

"Yeah."

They lay there for a few moments, grinning at each other stupidly. She shivered slightly as her body cooled down.

"Getting cold?" he asked.

"Yeah," she responded simply.

"Me too. I think I can move now."

Mary chuckled at his statement, but also felt quite pleased to have worn him out so well.

They reluctantly disentangled and got under the covers. Mary went to lay her head on one of the pillows, but Marshall nixed that momentarily when he pulled her to him again, kissing her deeply and passionately.

When he pulled back, she felt a bit lightheaded, but in a good way. He held her loosely to his side, not forcing her to stay there, but indicating that he wanted her close still, if she wanted. She happily stayed where she was, relaxing her body as she laid her head against his shoulder.

"Tired?" she wondered aloud, glancing up at him.

She could see his eyelids drooping a little. "Sorta."

She chuckled. "There's no 'sorta.' You are or you aren't."

"Okay, I am. But can you blame me?"

Mary didn't stop a smirk from forming on her lips, which caused Marshall to shake his head at her.

"What?" she questioned.

"Don't smirk too much. I made you scream just as loud," he teased.

"What, now you're able to measure decibels based on what you hear?" she joked.

He leaned back a little from her. "Are you implying that I screamed louder?" he asked with mock indignation.

"Well, I couldn't say for sure, but I do believe you screamed a **little** bit longer than me," she taunted.

"If I wasn't so worn out I'd show you how long I could make you scream," he growled out, sending a rush of desire straight through her.

"Save that threat for another time, shall we?" she responded, his expression now matching the growing desire she felt.

"Absolutely."

They gazed into each other's eyes for a few moments, enjoying the lingering effects until Mary regretfully broke the eye contact.

"Better rest up, big man. Need to be alert tomorrow for our witness," she stated. She snuggled into the crook of his arm and then felt him kiss the top of her head before lying back down.

"Yes ma'am," he replied teasingly.

She heard him yawn, and then within a couple of minutes of both of them adjusting to a comfortable sleeping position in a loose embrace, she could feel his body relax.

Mary closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax as well, easing into sleep with the peaceful sound of his slowed breathing.


	24. Chapter 24

**Pushed Too Far,**

**Chapter 24:**

She woke up slowly, feeling fuzzy and sore, blinking against the bright morning sun.

The first thing she noticed was that she was not at home, which wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence given her line of work. She'd stayed in so many hotels and motels over the years that she could pretty much identify the chain based on the color scheme alone. Judging from the muted earth tones, the striped curtains, and the green checkered rug, she was thinking Hampton Inn, or possibly an older Holiday Inn...

The second thing she noticed was that she was not alone, as evidenced by the arm carelessly flung over her hip. This was not exactly unusual either, given her approach to sex and relationships.

What was unusual, however, was to have work and sex collide like this. She was normally very careful to keep the two worlds separate; she did not bring sex to the office, and she did not bring work into her bed. The only real exception to her 'separate worlds' rule was Marshall, but it wasn't like she was sleeping with--

Holy mother of god... Marshall!

She rolled over in a panic, coming face to face with her partner.

"Good morning," he said casually, as if waking up in bed together was nothing new. Well, not that they hadn't slept together before, but those times had been about _sleeping;_ this was the first time sex was part of the equation.

"Um, yeah," she mumbled, not quite sure how to deal with the situation. She was normally quite good at the whole morning-after routine but, then again, it wasn't like she could just tell her partner to get dressed and get the hell out.

Besides, that wasn't what she wanted. She might not be sure about the _how_, but she had no doubts whatsoever about the _what_. What she wanted was to be with Marshall.

"This is weird, right?" he asked, trying his best to keep his voice neutral, but she could tell he was worried she'd changed her mind, that she regretted what had happened over the course of the past 24 hours.

"Yeah," she agreed, "it is weird. But it's a good kind of weird," she added, shifting closer to him. "I could get used to this kind of weird..."

"You could?" he asked, voice steadier now, tension slowly flowing out him.

"Yep," she mumbled against his neck, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot, then slowly making her way up to his mouth. The next few minutes were quiet, interrupted only by the occasional moan, as she got reacquainted with her partner's body.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd just made out with a guy, kissing slowly, hands roaming with no particular destination in mind. She'd always been very goal-oriented, wasting no time on foreplay, so she was surprised to find herself thoroughly enjoying just being close to him like this...

However, enjoying it or not, she _was_ getting restless. So was her partner, judging from his increasingly ragged breathing and not-so-subtle erection. "So," she drawled as she rolled him onto his back, straddling him, "think you're ready for round two?"

"More like round four, according to my count," he replied smugly, hooking an arm around her waist and expertly flipping her over before she had a chance to protest. She struggled to regain control – old habits did die hard - but he quieted her with a kiss. "Relax, Mare. It doesn't always have to be about control or dominance. Sometimes it's okay to just lie back and enjoy the ride," he added as he settled between her thighs, leaning down for another kiss.

She arched up against him, trying to get closer, trying to get him to just _move_, when her phone started ringing, causing her to erupt into a string of curses. "Can't I just get one morning of peace and quiet?" she moaned, reaching for the offending device as she limply fell back onto the bed. Taking a quick look at the display, she let out another string of curses as she realized who the caller was.

"Jinx, or Brandi?" he asked, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Neither," she sighed, putting the phone back on the nightstand, causing him to look at her with undisguised curiosity. "Raph," she admitted with a sigh, knowing he'd nag her until she told him.

"You wanna take it?" he asked quietly, deceptively calm, starting to move away from her.

"No," she replied quickly, wrapping a leg around his waist to keep him still.

"It's fine if you want to call him," he assured her. She shook her head in disbelief; the doofus probably meant that, too...

"I don't want to call him," she sighed. "I made a stupid mistake... Last week, when you and I had a really bad day... I was frustrated, and cranky, and I called him up..." She fell silent, waiting to see his reaction, but he just looked at her, a carefully neutral expression on his face. "You know it's different with you, right?" she finally asked, searching his face for confirmation that he understood. "This will _never_ happen, me with another guy, while you sit at home, wondering where I am..."

"I know," he said, nodding slowly. "You never loved any of those guys; you love me."

She stared at him in amazement, knowing she sure as hell wouldn't be this understanding – this _trusting_ - if their roles were reversed. "You really okay with this?"

"Yeah... Look, I knew exactly who you were when I fell in love with you. I don't expect it to be easy, or painless."

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be. Despite it all, it's still worth it. _You're_ still worth it."

She said nothing for a few seconds, blinking hard against the tears prickling her eyes. "I guess that was kind of a mood killer, uh?"

"I've been waiting to get you into bed for years," he replied softly, gently wiping away a stray tear. She was vaguely aware that her phone was ringing again, but she ignored it, focused solely on her partner. "Trust me, it'll take more than a phone call from your sex-toy-on-legs to kill the mood," he added, shifting his hips slightly, leaving no doubt that he was definitely still in the mood.

"Good to know," she whispered as she kissed him, hands roaming down his body, teasing, urging him onward...

Despite her best efforts, her partner set his own pace, refusing to be rushed. "Marshall," she managed through gritted teeth, "if you don't get on with it, I'm going to rip it off you and finish this myself!"

His only response was a low chuckle, which she felt all the way to her core. She was going to kill him, she really was... She was going to let him get her off first – _obviously_ – but after that... The man had to pay for making her wait like this...

She wiggled her hips, trying to get him to move, to do _anything_, but his only response was to pin her down. "Patience," he reminded her, still chuckling.

She _definitely_ was going to kill him.

She'd been about to try a different approach when his phone went off, causing her to launch into yet another litany of curses. "Who the hell is calling you at this time of the morning?" she cried out, not believing their luck.

Or lack thereof.

"Well, I think we can be reasonably sure it's not Raph," he quipped.

"So not the time for your unique brand of humor, Marshall," she growled in frustration. "Just answer the damned phone so we can get back to the important stuff," she added, grabbing his phone off the dresser and handing it to him.

"This is Marshall," he said into the phone, instantly back in U.S. Marshal mode. Well, except for the part where he was naked in bed, nestled snugly between his partner's legs, erection still standing proud... That _really_ wasn't part of the USMS handbook...

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, tracing lazy circles on the small of his back, as she tried to get herself under some semblance of control.

"She must be in the shower," she heard him say, no doubt referring to her. "What's up?"

She didn't need to hear the other end of the conversation to know the news was bad. She opened her eyes, looking up at him questioningly. _A hit_, he mouthed silently. _Our witness is dead_.

She didn't say a word as he rolled off her and got out of bed, still talking into the phone. Sighing, she got up as well, heading for the bathroom. While she was definitely pissed about losing the witness, she was just as annoyed at having their morning tryst interrupted at this point. Cursing under her breath, she turned on the shower faucet, setting it on cold, then stepped under the frigid spray.

Whoever was responsible for this, she'd find them, and she'd make them pay...


	25. Chapter 25

After she'd had enough of the cold, her body no longer aroused but definitely frustrated, she got out of the shower, dried off and wrapped a towel around her. She'd have forgone it if they hadn't gotten the call, but no need working either of them up when they couldn't do anything about it. She sighed and headed back into the bedroom. She heard the coffee pot going and shook her head. Marshall. Leave it to him to think of that.

Her clothes were sitting on top of the bed, but she didn't see him. The door to the other room was open, so she poked her head inside. He was in her shower. She shrugged, then laughed when she saw that he'd taken the time to mess up her bed. He thought of everything, didn't he?

She went back for the coffee, pouring herself a cup and taking a sip before pulling on the spare set of clothes she'd brought with her. They knew better than to go without a change of clothes even on what was supposed to be a simple escort, so she had a clean set. Good, because the other ones were rumpled, laying all over the floor of the room where they'd fallen in the hurry to get undressed last night.

Dressed, she grabbed her clothes and shoved them into her bag, sitting down to finish her coffee. When Marshall walked back into the room, his hair still wet from the shower, she felt her stomach flip-flop and cursed loudly enough to make him look at her.

"What?" he asked as he went to pour himself a coffee. "The witness or...?"

"You look too good coming out of the shower," she muttered, not wanting to acknowledge the juvenile nature of a flip-flop like that.

He sighed. "Mary, really, don't start anything, not right now. Neither of us has time for a second cold shower, and I, for one, do not want to take another."

"I'm not trying to, honest. Nice work with the bed, by the way, and thanks for the coffee," she said as she got to her feet, walking over to kiss him. "I assume they're waiting for us?"

"The hit didn't go quite as they planned. We got one of them, but he's not talking. I told them to let him stew for a bit and let you have at him when we got there. Assuming they listened, he'll be just where you want him."

She smiled. "You're so good to me."

"I know how you need to kick ass. You wouldn't be happy if they'd left you out of it," Marshall told her as he took another sip of his coffee. "Leave through your room, and we'll meet at the elevator."

She nodded, finishing her coffee and tossing the cup in the trash before going back into the other room with her bag, closing the adjoining door behind her. She heard his door open and knew he'd be at the elevator by the time she got out.

She joined him and had to resist the urge to touch him again. Damn, it was going to be a long day. She looked at him. "I need the keys."

"You'll get us killed on the way there."

"I need something to distract me. I drive," she insisted.

He nodded and passed over the keys as the elevator doors opened, and they went inside. She pushed the button impatiently. "It's not fair. I want to throw you against that wall and have my way with you."

He looked at her. "The feeling is mutual, but we can't."

"Maybe I shouldn't interrogate this guy," Mary said. "We've got no witness. We can just go home. Our work here is done."

"That's not the way either of us works, Mary. Once Stan told us about her, she became our witness. We don't let our witnesses die. If something happens to them, like this, then we find the people who hurt them, and we make them pay."

"I know," she agreed as the elevator came to a stop. She let him head to the desk and went out to get the car. This bastard was really going to get it. Killing her witness was one thing, but he was also keeping her from amazing sex. He was dead. As good as, anyway. Justifiable homicide.

She got in the car, adjusted the seat, started it up, and drove over to the check in, waiting for Marshall to come back out. He did after a minute, getting in the passenger side with a heavy sigh. She looked at him. "What, did someone complain about the noise?"

He laughed. "No. But they made a mistake with the rooms. They charged the marshal service for one instead of two, even though we had two different keys..."

"So you, the great boy scout, told them to charge the government for two even though we technically only used one," she finished, turning out onto the street.

"The idea is not to let everyone in the general populace know what we did last night, Mare," he reminded her as she slammed on the brakes for a red light. "Besides, they needed to know to clean the other room. I did shower there."

"And messed up the bed," she agreed. "Their office was this way, right?"

"Yeah, take a left up at the light," he answered, tracing a finger along the window.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, recognizing that movement as a sign that something was up with him. Was it the secrecy? She figured that had to bother him. He wasn't ashamed to admit he loved her, and it wasn't like she was ashamed of him or loving him, but it was difficult. She didn't just need him as a friend or a lover; she needed him as a partner. If they reassigned either of them...

"Just a bit worried. I didn't hear from my mom yet, and she would have called to say that she got the flowers."

Shit. Mary had forgotten about that. "We'll go see her as soon as we get back, okay?"

He turned towards her with an amused smile. "As soon as we get back? Mary, she doesn't live in the same state."

"Right. I knew that. So call her. You can call her anytime, you know," Mary said quickly, wincing. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten that. Wait a minute. She knew what she could do. They had to take a flight home, right? So they'd take a different one, detour for a day. Stan would agree to that. It was for Marshall.

"I'll call her while you're in with the bad guy."

"Good plan," Mary said, parking the car. Marshall got out first, looking around. She followed him, and they walked into the building again, past security and up to the marshals office. Ramirez was waiting for them at the door.

"You two got here fast," he observed.

"The shower was cold," Mary answered. "But those walls were nice. No one heard the screams."

Marshall reddened again. "As if you heard anything over your snoring. You know, it's like a freight train, and her walls must have been better than mine, because I could hear her loud and clear."

She gave him a dirty look. Bastard. He shrugged, and Ramirez laughed. "Come on. We've got him over here. His name is Stephen Braden. He has a few priors, but none of the big charges stuck."

"It's going to stick this time," Mary said. "Unless they're planning on giving him a deal to testify against his friend?"

"DA says he's still going to do time. Not negotiable. It's just a matter of how much time he does and where," Ramirez answered. "You want him?"

"Oh, yeah," Mary said. "I'll take care of him."


	26. Chapter 26

**Pushed Too Far,**

**Chapter 26:**

Mary Shannon stared at the man cowering before her, taking immense pleasure in the look of abject terror on his face as she leaned across the table, ready for another go at him.

The man had killed her witness, and for that he would pay. He had also cost her naked time with Marshall, and for that he would suffer...

It was over all too soon, the suspect willing to cop to anything just to get away from her. While she was mildly disappointed it had been so easy – she was rather enjoying taking her frustrations out him – she knew that the sooner they wrapped this up, the sooner she could get back to Marshall.

Naked.

In her bed.

She walked out of the interrogation room, grinning widely as she mentally reviewed exactly what she was going to do to her partner once she got him out of his clothes. Speaking of Marshall... "Was that good for you?" she asked when she found him right outside the door, an amused expression on his face.

"You know it always is," he answered with a chuckle. "What about you guys?" he asked, turning to the two local Marshals, who were staring at her with undisguised awe. "Was that good for you?"

"Is she always like this?" Ramirez asked.

"Yep," Marshall said, nodding. "My partner is very good at getting a man to beg for release," he confirmed, causing the mouthful of coffee she'd just swiped from his cup to spray out of her nose. "Now, if you don't mind" he continued, unsuccessfully trying to hide his glee at her reaction, "we need to leave. We have a plane to catch."

After the requisite thank-yous and good-byes were exchanged, they were in the elevator, slowly making their way down to the ground floor.

"Good going back there," she told him with a smile, "telling them we had a plane to catch so we could get out in a hurry." She threw a side glance at the elevator's other passengers as she edged closer to him, confirming the two gossiping young women weren't paying them any attention. "So," she whispered as she leaned in close, "I say we haul ass to the airport Ramada, check in, and don't leave the room – make that the bed! - until some time tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Like we wouldn't get our deposit back," he replied with a smirk. "As lovely as that sounds, I wasn't just making excuses; we do have a flight to catch."

"What do you mean?" she asked, brow knit in confusion. "I thought the plane wasn't available until tomorrow."

"It's not," he confirmed as the elevator doors dinged open, letting them out into the lobby. "I booked us onto a commercial flight to Dallas. I told Stan I needed to visit my mother, and that you were coming along for the ride. He very wisely chose not to ask why you were coming home with me instead of going straight back to Albuquerque."

"Do you think he knows?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"I'm pretty sure Stan's known for quite a while," he answered, holding the door open for her. "Why?"

"Well, he is our boss," she pointed out, sighing as she noticed it had started drizzling again. Never again would she complain about the ever-present sun in New Mexico... "He might object to his top two inspectors sleeping together."

"Is that what we're doing?" he asked, voice deceptively calm. "Sleeping together?"

"You know what I mean, Marshall... Whether we're in love or just screwing, the end result's the same; we're fraternizing. All I'm saying is that there are rules against this, and Stan might feel the need to enforce those rules."

"He thinks of us as family, you know that. If he has to choose between the rules and us being happy, he's going to choose us."

"You don't know that--"

"Yeah, I do know that, and you know it too."

"Marshall--"

"Look, Mare, if you've changed your mind--"

"Marshall, stop!" she cried out loudly enough to draw attention from passers-by. "You can't go jumping to conclusions every time I make a comment like that," she told him, grabbing a hold of his arm so he'd stop walking and pay attention. "You're just going to make yourself crazy doing that... Look, I know I don't have a great track record, and that you have no real reason to believe me, but I am _not_ having second thoughts. And I am _not_ going to change my mind," she added softly, searching his face for any indication that he believed her. "I'm in this for the long haul, Marshall. You're not getting rid of me any time soon."

"Okay," he said after a few seconds, the relief in his voice unmistakable.

"Okay," she repeated, quite proud of how she'd handled the situation. Maybe there was hope for her after all... "I think I deserve a reward for handling that so maturely, what with the expressing of feelings and all that," she quipped, pulling him in for a kiss.

Her partner didn't argue the point, looping an arm around her waist to draw her closer as they stood on the busy sidewalk, getting drenched in the now-steady rain, oblivious to everything but each other. "We better get going if we're going to make our flight," he eventually said, reluctantly pulling away from her.

"All right," she sighed, stepping out of his embrace, "but I'm telling you right now, Marshall... We're paying that airplane bathroom a visit this time!" she warned as she hailed down a cab. "We _are_ going to finish what we started this morning..."


	27. Chapter 27

**Pushed Too Far,  
Chapter 27**:

His phone buzzed, and she glared at him as he took it out and looked at it. "I didn't know he knew how to text."

"Who? Stan? He doesn't. And if you show him, I'm kicking your ass. I need to be able to do the 'I can't hear you act,'" she warned.

Marshall shook his head. "Not Stan. My father. He just sent a text. We're expected at their house, and then we're going to the hospital. Together."

Mary stared at him. "What?"

* * * * *

"I swear, your father hates me," Mary told him under her breath as they followed him through the hospital's corridors. He was a walking bulls eye, not because of what he was wearing, but because the man was taller than Marshall, and Mary hadn't really thought that was possible, outside of the NBA, anyway.

"He does not hate you," Marshall shook his head, trying not to laugh. "You're just reacting to the stress of the flight. I know, it wasn't the most comfortable flight, and that woman who insisted she had the seat between us getting the air marshal involved was rather underhanded, but we survived. We're here. And my father does not hate you."

"Oh, yeah? Then why does he keep looking at me like he's going to go for his gun?"

"He's not going for his gun. That's just the way he looks."

"Like a Marlboro man?" Mary asked, and Marshall made a face. "Okay, okay. He's your dad. I won't call him the Marlboro Man again. But he is planning on shooting me."

Marshall looked up at his father, shaking his head again. He reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. She rolled her eyes. He completely ignored his father's reach for the gun again. The man was going to shoot her. She should pull Marshall into the nearest restroom and make sure she died for a good reason—or at least happy. She wasn't a happy person, but Marshall could make her happy. He had proved that last night.

"As I was telling you, Marshall, your mother's doing better, and you know she won't ask you herself, but she's getting older—"

"And you're not?" Marshall interrupted.

"And she'd like her son close to her. You could transfer to a closer office, Marshall. There is an opening here."

Mary stared at the old man. What? What did he think he was doing? He wasn't taking her Marshall from her. If he transferred, she was coming with him. But he wouldn't really transfer. Albuquerque was their town. Their witnesses. Their life.

Then again, getting away from her family wasn't a bad idea.

"I don't need to transfer to see Mom. You know that. She knows that," Marshall said, and Mary could tell they'd had this conversation before. It wasn't one that he wanted to have, either.

"Then why are you never here?" Mann countered, and Marshall sighed. He looked at her, and she made a face. Great. Tell your father I'm the reason you're staying where you are. Give him another reason to shoot me.

"I'm here as often as I can be, and whenever I'm needed. I don't need you watching over my shoulder, you know. I can take care of myself. Have been for years."

"Like when you got shot last year?"

"Marshall was fine," Mary insisted. "He's strong, and he wasn't alone."

Marshall smiled a little at her, and she knew he knew she was lying. She hadn't exactly handled that hospital situation well. Still, she knew that she meant it now. Marshall wasn't alone. She wasn't going to let anything happen to him again.

"Your mother didn't think so," Mann said, stopping outside a room. "She's in here."

"Are you planning on giving me some kind of warning?" Marshall asked, looking at his father. The older Mann shook his head in irritation. "Can we see her or not?"

"You can see her."

Mary shook her head at them, pushing past Marshall and into the room. "I'm Mary Shannon. I work with Marshall. I'm not sure what's with the pissing contest outside the door, but I do know that Marshall's been very worried about you."

The other woman looked at her. "I know that. What I don't know is why you're here with him."

"Mary's a friend, Mom," Marshall said, coming into the room. He looked her over, taking in the cast and shook his head. "Was Dad driving?"

"Don't start," Mrs. Mann warned. "You know the story."

"Not the details," he said, taking the chair next to the bed and leaning over to hold her hand. "And you like details. So, tell me the details."

"I'll tell you the details," Marshall's father offered from the doorway. Marshall looked back at him, and slowly but deliberately ignored him.

"Mom?" Marshall prompted, and she rolled her eyes.

"How long have you been in town? An hour? You two are already fighting? Go get some coffee, yell at each other, and come back when you're done," Mrs. Mann ordered, closing her eyes.

Marshall shook his head as he got to his feet, leaving the room. Mary watched him go, wondering how she had gotten into the middle of this. She didn't understand his family. Not that she was very good with families in general, but she really didn't get his. She thought maybe she should go with Marshall. She started to leave, and the woman on the bed grabbed her arm like a vice.

"You're not going anywhere." Mary looked at her in surprise. She didn't look that strong. "I know exactly who you are, Mary Shannon. Marshall said you were his friend, but that's a lie, isn't it? I know the way he talks about you, and I know the way you treat him. So, I repeat: I don't know why you're here with him."

Mary swallowed hard. "I...I'm here because Marshall's here."

"Right. And what makes that possible? Last I heard, you weren't on speaking terms," Mrs. Mann went on. "Marshall is my son. I know him. And I know you hurt him. I'll be frank with you. I don't want you here. Because I don't want him hurt."

Mary's mouth fell open, and she found herself in the uncomfortable position of not knowing what the hell to do or say. What did you say to the mother of the man you loved when she was telling you to take a hike before you hurt him, and you knew she was right? Mary took a deep breath. "Fine. You don't have to want me here. But he does."

"Yeah. But he doesn't see clearly when it comes to you."

"I know he doesn't. And I know I'll probably end up hurting him again," Mary admitted. She couldn't believe she was saying.

"So what are you going to do to convince me not to tell my son that you got a call from your on again off again boyfriend and agreed to meet him later?" Mrs. Mann asked, and Mary looked at her with surprise and anger. "I meant it. I may not look dangerous with this cast on my leg, but if you hurt my son, I will make you suffer."

"I love your son," Mary choked out, her hands turning into fists. "And if you make that call, I will break your other leg."

"Whoa," Marshall said from the doorway, and Mary whirled around to look at him. He held up his hands. "Dad and I brought food, but maybe we should have brought some flak gear. What happened while I was gone?"

"I was being overprotective while your girlfriend got defensive," his mother explained. "What did you get me to eat? The stuff they try to feed me is lousy."

Mary looked at Marshall, his mother, and his father. Okay, now she was really confused. "Are you people always like this?"

"Yeah," Marshall's dad said, biting into his sandwich. "Think of it this way. You just survived the initiation."

Mary stared at him. "The what?"

"Oh, the broken leg isn't part of a prank, don't get me wrong," he went on, "but not everyone fits with our kind of humor. You've been around Marshall long enough to know that it's not for everyone. And she wasn't really kidding about threatening you. Nothing's scarier than that woman when her kid is hurting. You should have seen her when Marshall got shot. There's a reason she never left fugitive recovery until they forced her to take a desk."

"You're a marshal?" Mary asked, looking at the other woman in surprise.

"We're all marshals," Marshall said, breaking out into laughter. She smacked him, unable to stop herself. What the hell was wrong with these people?

"Now that Marshall's seen for himself that I'm fine, if tortured by bad food, he'll be wanting to head home, I'm sure," Mrs. Mann commented, picking up her own sandwich.

"He could move back home," Marshall's father said. "There is an opening."

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Mann agreed. "But there aren't two, are there?"

* * * * *

"Your family is insane," Mary told Marshall, pulling him aside as his father said goodnight to his mother. "I thought you were the crazy one, but—"

"But I come from a long line of crazies," he finished, grinning at her. She rolled her eyes, and he looked back at the room before stealing a quick kiss.

"Marshall, was your father kidding about separate bunks?"

He shook his head. "No."

"What?"

"The guest room...it's a bunk bed," he explained. She stared at him for a long moment. "A twin bunk bed, actually."

"Marshall," she hissed. "You understand that this is not funny. Not at all funny. We got interrupted this morning, and I have been waiting all day to finish what we started. We are not sleeping in a damn bunk bed."

"I don't know, Mary, at this point, I think I'm too tired for the bunk bed to make any difference."

"I could put you in the mood," she told him, her hand on his chest, playing with his buttons. He reached up and caught her hand.

"It's not about being in the mood," he told her. "I... I do want you, Mary, and I don't think that's ever going to change. But I know those beds. I know they're nowhere near big enough for us to do this without hurting ourselves. Besides, I'm tired, and... I love my family, but I can only take so much, you know? Dad trying to make me come home, Mom being overprotective... It gets old."

"We don't have to stay overnight," Mary said, looking over at the hospital room. That was one hell of a goodnight kiss, or maybe they were discussing ways to kill her. She had to admit, she hadn't made a very good impression on his family. But as long as she had him, she didn't think that mattered. "It's up to you how long you want to stay here. Did you clear it with Stan for several days, or what?"

"Aren't you sick of all this travel?" Marshall asked, frowning.

"A little. But I know one thing: I'd rather be home, with you in my bed, than apart on some bunk beds. Hell, I'd take the couch over that. At least we could sit together."

Marshall looked at her with amusement. "Mary Shannon, do you want to neck on the couch? Really? You?"

She smacked his arm. "No. Maybe."

He smiled at her again and then took a deep breath. "Stan told me to take two days. That's when I scheduled our flight back. As tempting as it sounds to leave early... My mom is in the hospital, and I can't leave after a short visit like that. I have to come back tomorrow after some of the weirdness is gone, the usual conversations out of the way so that I can really talk to her."

"You're not planning on leaving me alone with your father, are you? Because he's still planning on killing me. That's what they're doing in there, planning to get rid of me, find you a different girl, a better one, one that won't hurt you," she said, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"My parents want me to be happy. They have different definitions of happy, and they think I could be here, away from you, but that's not the same as plotting murder," he told her. "Stop worrying. I made a promise. You made a promise. And as for the hurting me thing... I know you're going to try not to. That's all anyone can do."

"You deserve better," she insisted. "You really do, Marshall."

"Yeah. But I want you."

* * * * *

"Your dad's staring at me again."

"Would you stop it? He's not planning on killing you. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that. And, no, an invitation out to the shooting range is not an attempt to arrange an accident. Dad doesn't invite just anyone out there, and he was really impressed with your shooting," Marshall told her, trying not to laugh. She didn't think this was very funny.

"Marshall, the man does not like me. And your mom doesn't, either. I don't know what to do. I've already fucked it up, and we haven't been together for a week."

"That just gives us longer to fix it," he insisted. "Mary, stop panicking. Remember, it's not my family who needs to love you. I'm the one that needs to do that, and I do."

"Yeah, but Marshall... If your family doesn't like me... You know you'll be fighting with them all the time about me. And you'll hate it," she said, leaning against the wall. "I don't want to do that to you. I don't want to cause problems. Which is funny, because we both know that I'm good at that. I really am."

"You've been my problem for four years now, Mary, and I don't want it any other way. This will just take time. Either they start to like you or they realize that you're not going away. You're not going away, right?"

She looked at him. "I'm not. I'm just saying it would be easier for you—"

"I've tried to get over you. It didn't work. I tried to leave, you wouldn't let me. If you try and tell me that you're going to go now..."

He didn't finish, but she heard the threat, the same breaking tone in his voice, and she shook her head. "No. No, damn it. I'm trying to make this right. I didn't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you. Really. I just... I thought that was a part of not hurting you."

"It isn't. I'm flattered that you tried, but stop," Marshall said, looking away from her for a second. He touched her face, pushing some of her hair back behind her ear. She smiled a little. "Mary, what matters the most to me right now is that you stay. Regardless of what you think Stan will say when we get back, regardless of what you think my family thinks of you... I just need you to stay. That's all."

"Well, gee," she said, shaking her head. "It doesn't sound so hard when you say it like that."

"It doesn't have to be hard," he agreed, kissing her forehead and then moving down to her lips. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against him. "Just stay."

"You see? I told you. Love," Mrs. Mann's voice carried from down the hall and Mary looked up in surprise. "That is love."

"Mom? I thought you said they were determined to keep you for weeks," Marshall shook his head in confusion.

"I convinced them I didn't need to stay," she explained, like that was anywhere close to the whole story. "Your father's going to pick up dinner on the way home, and we'll have one nice meal before you leave."

"Did you check out AMA again?" Marshall asked, his hand sliding down to Mary's waist as they walked along with the wheelchair. "Mom, I know you don't like hospitals, but really, I don't think you should do this if you're not ready."

"I'm ready," Mrs. Mann insisted. "I just want one meal with my son, and you know the rules about dinner."

"Eat what you're served?" Mary offered, looking at Marshall.

"That, and no arguing at the table," he agreed. He let his father push the wheelchair in front of them, towards the door.

"Well, that's good, I suppose," Mary said dubiously.

"Think of it this way," Marshall advised, "as soon as we finish dinner, we can go home."

"I like the sound of that,"she agreed. "But...what if they try to poison me at dinner?"


	28. Chapter 28

**Pushed Too Far,  
Chapter 28:**

Dinner had been surreal.

Marshall certainly hadn't been kidding when he said there was no arguing at the table. It was as if the entire Mann family had suddenly been taken over by pod people, and all their disagreements had just magically disappeared as they put away plate after plate of ribs, pulled pork, baked beans, potato salad & cole slaw.

Nonetheless, alien take-over or not, by the time they'd said their good-byes a few hours later, Mary felt much better about meeting her partner's family. While she wouldn't exactly say she'd been welcomed with open arms – she was still pretty sure his father would at least wing her if given half a chance – she knew Marshall's parents had accepted that she was an important – and _permanent_ – part of their son's life.

The flight home, while mercifully short, had been decidedly unpleasant. They'd ended up sitting in different rows due to overbooking, and she'd spent the 2-hour flight fending off the advances of her smarmy neighbor. Not that the guy wasn't attractive; he was very much her type, actually, and if she'd met him just a week ago, things might have gone very differently.

However, a lot of things had changed in a week, and she just wasn't interested anymore. And so she'd just sat there, grinding her teeth as she tried to ignore the clueless Lothario, watching as her partner laughed at something his statuesque red-headed neighbor whispered in his ear.

She'd somehow managed to resist the urge to pull the woman off her partner and drag her down the aisle by her hair, though she had to admit it had been a close one. As it was, she'd settled for a snarled _touch him again, and they'll never find your body_ as she'd walked by on her way to the lavatory. The message had obviously gotten through loud and clear, as the red-head had switched seats by the time Mary emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. No surprise there, mind you; if there was one thing Mary Shannon had always done quite well, it was scare people when she wanted to...

By the time they retrieved the SUV from the long-term parking lot a few hours later, she was exhausted, happily handing the keys over when her partner offered to drive. While she did notice he was uncharacteristically quiet as he navigated the familiar streets, she was too tired to really make anything of it.

By the time they reached her house, though, even her fatigue-addled brain had clued into the fact that there _was_ something wrong, something that had nothing to do with his injured mother or their dead witness...

He pulled into the driveway, killing the engine. "Do you need me to pick you up in the morning?" he asked in a neutral voice, refusing to meet her eyes.

She understood what he was doing, trying to give her the space he thought she'd need now that they were back to their normal lives in Albuquerque, but it still stung. While she realized she didn't exactly have the best track record, she'd hoped the events of the last few days would have convinced her partner she wasn't going to change her mind. Guess she still needed to work on that...

Sighing, she fished her cell phone out of the cup holder and climbed out of the truck. "It's been a long couple of days," she said, reaching into the back seat to retrieve her overnight bag. "Why don't you just come in?"

"What about Jinx & Brandi? Aren't they home?"

"I'm not sure," she answered, making her way over to the driver's side and opening the door. "Let me make you some coffee for the road, at least," she offered, though she had no intention of letting him go anywhere tonight. She knew he, too, was exhausted, and there was no way in hell she was letting him drive home alone. Besides, they obviously needed to clear up a few things...

She watched as he tried to come up with reasons not to stay, but his attempts were thwarted by a jaw-unhinging yawn. "Come on," she said, reaching over to unbuckle his seat-belt and pulling him out of the truck. "I've got a big bed, with a warm comforter and fluffy pillows. Not to mention a warm and fluffy Mary," she added, wagging her eyebrows suggestively at him in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm exhausted, Mare... I don't think I can--"

"Marshall," she sighed, "just because I invite you to spend the night doesn't mean you have to perform for me. You're going to have to get used to the idea that I'll sometimes want you in my bed just to have you there, not because I want to have sex."

He mulled that over for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. "What if Jinx or Brandi walks in on us?" he asked, looking at her dubiously.

"Well, if it's my mother, she'll probably want to have a go at you," she snickered, thoroughly enjoying the look of panic on his face. "As for Brandi, she'll probably be too confused to ask a lot of questions."

"That's not what I was asking, and you know it," he sighed, slumping back against the SUV. "Those two aren't exactly known for their discretion... What happens if they blab to the wrong person?"

"There is no 'wrong person,' Marshall. I know I freaked out a little about Stan knowing, but I'm not going to hide you like some dirty little secret. I love you. The people in our lives need to know that."

"Are you sure?" he asked, resolve slowly crumbling.

"Yes," she replied, without so much as a hint of hesitation. "Come on," she added, pulling him behind her as she walked up the path up to the house, "let's go to bed..."

The house was dark and quiet. She wasn't sure if that was because her mother and sister were out, or because they'd already gone to bed, and she didn't care. Right now, she just wanted to crawl into bed with Marshall and sleep for at least 12 hours...

Rummaging through her laundry basket, she pulled out some clothes her partner had left behind the last time he'd stayed over, throwing them on the bed. "Change," she told him sternly, "then bed."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, giving her a mock salute. Still grinning, he grabbed the makeshift pajamas and headed for the bathroom.

She stripped off her clothes, crumpling them into a ball and throwing them in the general vicinity of the hamper in the corner of the room. Shrugging at the ever-growing pile of laundry on the floor, she quickly changed into her nightclothes and collapsed onto the bed. Her partner emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, carefully depositing his neatly folded clothes onto the dresser.

"Freak," she mumbled, rolling her eyes as he made his way around the bed, then climbed in behind her.

"Slob," he countered, slipping an arm around her waist and trailing soft kisses down the side of her neck.

"I thought you were too tired for sex?" she teased, turning around to face him.

"Maybe I'm not as tired as I thought," he admitted with a smile, tugging at the waistband of her cotton pants. "Unless you don't want to..." he trailed off, frowning.

"When have you ever known me to turn down sex?" she asked, laughing as she reached for him. "You don't have to do this, you know?" she added, growing serious again. "I meant it when I said I don't expect sex every time you stay over..."

"I know," he acknowledged. "All right, now that we got that settled... Clothes off?"

Her last coherent thought as she complied with his request, shedding both pants and tank top in record time, was that she could definitely get used to having Marshall in her bed for the next fifty or sixty years...

* * * * * THE END! * * * * *


End file.
